


Gimme A Kiss to Build a Dream On

by al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons



Series: Kiss Kiss [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, David Waxing Poetic About Kissing Patrick, Early Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Introspection, M/M, just a lot of kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons/pseuds/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons
Summary: Never had a simple chaste kiss or even a languid makeout session ever made David feel like this before, simultaneously anchored in place and utterly, deliciously undone.Or, early on, when Patrick hadn’t done much more than kiss David, David has a lot of thoughts about it.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kiss Kiss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013727
Comments: 49
Kudos: 209





	Gimme A Kiss to Build a Dream On

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you spend 6 months slogging through WIPs with almost no progress and sometimes you knock out 1700 words about kissing in a matter of hours  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Title is from A Kiss to Build a Dream On by Louis Armstrong

Kissing Patrick was a revelation. 

David had spent hours idly wondering - long before the chaste press of their lips on his birthday, prior even to him telling Patrick he had a clean mouth- what kissing Patrick might be like. 

Would he approach kissing the same way he did everything else- businesslike and methodical, with a teasing edge to undercut the seriousness? 

Would he be uncharacteristically messy, all teeth and tongue? 

Would he be assertive and sure, or meek and submissive? 

After weeks of kissing Patrick, David still wasn’t sure which categories he fit into, and always managed to be surprised.

After that first night, David bridging the gap and pulling him in, Patrick seemed a little more brave, a little emboldened. He didn’t hesitate now, to initiate, starting with that second kiss the day after David’s birthday. 

It was the first time David was surprised by one of Patrick’s kisses- the confident hands on his waist and hint of tongue in broad daylight in the middle of their store had been unexpected- but it was far from the last. 

Kissing Patrick was a new experience for David, one where kissing was the journey instead of a means to an end. Slow, Patrick had said, he needed to go slow. And that was fine with David. Going slow meant giving them more time before they inevitably crashed and burned. Going slow meant giving Patrick something to work towards, meandering through the bases instead of rushing towards the finish line. Or whatever sports metaphors meant “actually having sex.” 

David felt privileged to be part of this, Patrick’s careful exploration and discovery. With anyone else, it could feel cold or impersonal or like experimentation. With other people, it had felt like that, had _been_ that. But never with Patrick. 

Even in the moments where Patrick seemed a little overwhelmed, a little wild around the eyes with his lips kissed bright pink and his short hair as disheveled as it could be, his chest heaving, he was always incredibly, undeniably _present_. 

It was in the way he’d murmur David’s name into the warm skin of his neck, over and over again, like a reassurance or a prayer. Like he was trying to convince himself that it was real, it was happening, he was actually there, with David specifically. 

It was in the way he would cup David’s head with one hand, the other on his waist, gently cradling him as they kissed. It was incredible, really, how Patrick was physically smaller than David but was able to hold him so entirely, make him feel secure and seen and safe. 

It was in how, soon after they started dating, Patrick made innocuous but noticeable adjustments to his routines, things that went unmentioned but not unappreciated. Like switching from using GelTime Chap Lip Moist Stick to the organic honey beeswax lip balms they sold in the store, or how he surreptitiously paid for and pocketed one of their new lip scrubs before they hit the shelves. 

Or how Patrick had switched his afternoon tea of choice from green tea to peppermint. David couldn’t be _certain_ that the two were related, but- well. The only other thing that had changed was that they also sometimes spent those quiet afternoons lazily making out in the back room. It thrilled David, lit him up in an unfamiliar way, the idea that Patrick had made these changes to make their time together more pleasurable. Not that David had ever lodged any complaints about Patrick’s breath or the softness of his lips- he’d had no reason to yet- but still. Few people had taken that kind of consideration with David before. 

Some days Patrick approached David timidly, smiling at him softly and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below his ear that he had already laid claim to, before winding his arms around David’s waist and burrowing his face into his chest. David relished these moments, didn’t take for granted the times when Patrick allowed himself to be vulnerable and ask for exactly what he wanted. That was new for Patrick, he’d told David quietly one day. Knowing exactly what he wanted and having it within reach, his for the taking. 

Then there were times when David was being ridiculous or annoying or difficult on purpose, and Patrick would snark back at him before kissing him fiercely, fingers wrapped firmly around the back of his head, as if to say “yes, I _do_ still like you when you’re being like this.” 

The first time Patrick gave him a hickey, he was embarrassed and apologetic, stumbling over his words, gently thumbing at the mark on David’s neck and wincing sympathetically. But David shushed him, reassuring him with a gentle kiss and a nonchalant wave of his hand. It could be easily covered by any number of the knits in his wardrobe, he promised. 

But what he didn’t tell Patrick- couldn’t verbalize or wasn’t ready to- was that he liked the way it made him feel. Liked how Patrick had marked his territory, an X on the map of David saying _I was here_. Proof that Patrick wanted him. 

It was a different kind of possessiveness than what David had experienced with previous partners, one borne of pride and a desire to show other people what they were building together, rather than out of jealousy or desire for control. 

When David returned to the motel that night, his fingers kept wandering to the spot as he sat at the table with Alexis’s makeup mirror, going through his skincare regimen. He pulled his collar down slightly, pressing a finger lightly to the mark, smiling to himself. 

“ _Ew_ , David. Did Patrick give you a hickey?” Alexis flounced into the room, and David glared at her in the reflection of the mirror. “You guys are grown men, not horny teenagers.” 

“Fuck off, Alexis,” David snapped. He felt a rush of protectiveness for Patrick, to whom so much of what they were doing felt brand new. He might as well be a teenager again, in some ways. 

“David, I’ve never,” Patrick had groaned one afternoon, his head tilted back, the lines of his neck beautifully exposed as David fruitlessly grasped at the short hairs at his nape. “It’s never felt like this before,” he continued breathlessly. Sunlight was slanting through the windows where David had him pinned against the wall in the back room of the store, dustmotes and the red notes in Patrick’s hair catching the light, everything bathed in bronze and gold. He was overcome with desire after witnessing Patrick firmly tell a vendor, in no uncertain terms, that their exclusivity contract was airtight and they’d better reconsider their plan to sell their soaps to their competitor, the Mercantile in Elmdale.

“I know,” David murmured, his lips pressed against Patrick’s Adam’s apple, his thigh pressed between his legs. “Not for me, either.” And it hadn’t, not with any one of the long list of people David had been with. Never had a simple chaste kiss or even a languid makeout session ever made David feel like this before, simultaneously anchored in place and so utterly, deliciously undone.

* * *

_I could do this forever_ , David thought one night, sprawled on Ray’s couch during a rare night of privacy. Patrick was kissing him senseless, and David was sure the weight of Patrick above him was the only thing preventing him from floating away. 

“Okay,” Patrick chuckled, his breath warm and damp where he was currently nuzzling- truly, the only word for what he was doing- under David’s ear. “But I was hoping we could move on to other things.” 

David’s eyes snapped open, his heart rate kicking up a notch as he gently pushed at Patrick’s shoulders and scooted into a sitting position. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, that thing about _forever_ , but now that he had, he tried to examine whether he was embarrassed about it. The fond, pleased expression on Patrick’s face helped him decide not to be. 

“Other things,” David said, more breathily than he’d ever admit. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Like what?” 

Patrick was still on top of him, essentially straddling him while keeping a respectable distance between their hips. He was quiet for a minute, his eyes searching David’s face as he cupped it with his hand, his thumb brushing David’s bottom lip. 

“ _Everything_ , David. ” he murmured finally, ducking down to kiss David soundly. David lost himself in it again for a moment, groaning when Patrick nipped his bottom lip, then swiped his tongue across it, soothing. “Eventually.” He pulled back, then moved off of David’s lap, settling next to him. It took David’s brain a moment to grasp the thread of the conversation again, and he took a deep breath to clear his mind. 

“Everything, huh?” David smiled at him crookedly, sitting up straighter and smoothing out his sweater and running and hand through his hair, attempting to pull himself back together a bit. 

Patrick ducked his head shyly, biting his lip and looking down at his hands, one of which was now busy tangling its pinky with one of David’s. It was ludicrous, really, how these small touches sent frissons of pleasure straight down David’s spine. 

“I like...this,what we’re doing now.” Patrick said softly. “I like _you_. I like doing this _with_ you.” He looked up then, and David could feel how ridiculously soft and fond his own expression was. “But eventually, yeah. Everything. If you’re interested.”

“Mmhmm, yes.” David felt himself nodding rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut, aware that he must look like a bobblehead but unable to make himself stop. “I am, very interested.” 

Patrick laughed again, not unkindly- it was never unkind when it was Patrick, and that was another revelation for David, to be laughed _with_ instead of laughed _at_ \- and dove back in, pressing David into the cushions. 

_We already are_ , David thought suddenly, somewhat nonsensically, his thoughts disconnected and fuzzy as Patrick activated every nerve ending in David’s body. _We already do_. 

What they had, what they were doing. It was messy and methodical, soft and sharp, achingly familiar and terrifyingly brand-new. It was everything. 


End file.
